The English Princess
by SophiaSkylarRose
Summary: Amelia froze as she met his stormy grey eyes. He's… really, really, really cute. She blinked, hoping that it was just a trick of the light. Mori was still looking at her. She blinked again, a blush threatening to rise to her cheeks (in the background, Kyouya snapped his pen)
1. Chapter 1

It was, by all accounts, a dreadful morning. The storm brewing overhead did nothing to stop the overwhelming humidity permeating the environment. Safe as she was within the limo, nonetheless Amelia could feel the humidity in the way her hair was beginning to frizz along the ends. She wished she had had the foresight to put it up - at the very least, it would make the sight of her red hair and yellow dress less of an eyesore.

They pulled to a stop at the side of the road, her driver getting out and opening the door for her. "Good luck on your first day, Windsor-hime," he said, his Japanese soft and fluid.

"Thank you," she replied, a bit wryly. "I doubt I'll need it though. This is all routine."

Wishing she had put her hair into a ponytail again, she hurried towards the air-conditioned safety of the school. The entire time, she flattened her hair uselessly against the humidity, but it was no use. Stepping inside, Amelia stopped as she realized her current dilemma - apart from the fact that there was now a puffy red pom-pom where her hair used to be.

 _Where on earth is the main office?_

She supposed that roughly translated to "Honsha wa dokodesu ka?" but she wasn't sure. Amelia had gotten too used to the luxury of English in Canada. Although her tutor had done his best to teach her, Amelia's grasp of the language wasn't quite complete. The grammar rules alone had her stymied, let alone all the different customs and ways of addressing others. There were just so many things to consider - were they older than you? More successful? Male or female?

 _Oh well._

With an uncharacteristic recklessness, Amelia reached out and tapped the first person she saw on the shoulder. He turned, glasses flashing in a way that put her off for a moment - but only for a moment. She recognized him instantly: Ootori Kyouya, third son, third year. But people got creeped out if you knew who they were without introduction, so she feigned ignorance.

"Excuse me, but where's the main office?"

 _Dear god, I hope I didn't mess up the translation._

He looked contemplative for a moment - probably wondering about her obviously English accent. Then, in beautiful, beautiful English, he said, "The main office is quite a ways from here. I can show you, if you like? And if you focused more on making your words fluid, instead of pronouncing each of them separately, your accent might be less noticeable."

Amelia could feel a blush trying to creep its way onto her cheeks. With an immense amount of determination, she crushed it back to the depths of hell and beamed up at her wonderful, English-speaking saviour. Her opinion of Kyouya rose by several thousand percent. Hmm, maybe she could try demonstrating her foreknowledge and seeing how he reacted? _I wonder if he's as cool as they say._

"That would be amazing! Thank you for speaking in English, but I'd like to speak Japanese so I can get rid of the accent as quickly as I can." Switching to Japanese, she continued, "And I'd love it if you could show me to the main office, Ootori-san."

A slight widening of his eyes was the only indicator of his surprise (oh, how glad she was that she had studied the profiles of all the notables at Ouran). He gave her a slow, contemplative smile. "Then, Windsor-hime, follow me." _He knows who I am too? I underestimated him._

At the honorific, Amelia really did blush this time. "No need to refer to me as '-hime,' Ootori-san. '-San' is fine."

She didn't ask how he knew her name, or her title. Amelia figured that the third Ootori son, notorious as he was for keeping detailed profiles, would of course know of the youngest English princess set to attend Ouran.

Early as it was, the hallways were fairly empty. Despite that, there were still many who did a doubletake at the red-haired obviously not-Japanese stranger. Amelia, unused to these looks, faced straight ahead and tried to pay attention to her conversation with Kyouya. She hadn't been in an East-Asian country since grade five, and had forgotten how rare foreigners were.

"How are you liking it in Japan so far, princess?"

"It's much warmer than Canada for sure, although I'm quite excited by the fact that there's less snow here. Winter up north is positively awful." How she hated small talk. What value was either of them gaining from this conversation?

"We're here. Do you need to pick up your schedule?" He asked, inclining his head slightly towards the door. Amelia flashed him a small smile, bowing slightly. "Thank you, Ootori-san. Yes, I do need to pick up my schedule, but I think class is going to start soon. I wouldn't want you to be late because of me, after you've been so kind." She said her goodbyes, and walked into the office.

From there, everything was a blur of bureaucracy. Next thing she knew, she was being bundled through into a classroom of people who immediately turned and stared at her. She couldn't blame them. It _was_ the middle of the semester, after all. The teacher, a kind-looking middle-aged man, smiled at the class.

"Everyone, we have a new student this year. Why don't you introduce yourself?"

This was it - the moment she had spent all morning practicing for. She took a deep breath, ( _make your words fluid_ ), and said, in a quiet, polite voice, "I'm Windsor Amelia, granddaughter of Queen Elizabeth II. Please take care of me!"

After the silence had stretched longer than a few seconds, Amelia chanced a look up and found the looks of complete, utter shock on the faces of her classmates. While they were used to _corporate_ royalty, it seemed they weren't accustomed to _actual_ royalty. Her eyes landed on Hayashi Hana, heiress to a multi-billion dollar wine company. Amelia studied her, noticing the abundance of diamond jewlery. _She has expensive tastes. If I'm to be her friend, I should read up on the latest fashion trends._ Her eyes traveled to Amashi Haru, whose father owned a popular electronics store. When they made eye contact, he immediately blushed and averted his gaze. _Certainly seems shy - is that the reason for the blush? Maybe he has a weakness for foreign girls. I'll play up my accent around him and see how he reacts._ Sitting next to Amashi Haru was Suouh Tamaki, who gave her a kind smile. And next to him, Kyouya Ootori. He was the only one who didn't look shocked by her announcement. He met her eyes steadily, dark grey against blue, before scribbling something in his notebook.

The teacher cleared his throat. "Does anyone have questions for Windsor-hime?"

Amashi Haru looked up and called out, "Are you single?"

 _Not so shy after all, it seems. Then why the blush?_

"Amashi-san, that is incredibly inappropriate. Does anyone else have _appropriate_ questions for Windsor-hime? No? Then, Windsor-hime, please sit down."

Carefully, Amelia made her way to the only empty seat in the classroom - right behind Tamaki and Kyouya. When she sat down, she leaned forwards and tapped Amashi Haru on the shoulder. He turned, with a faint blush when he realized who had tapped him. She felt a seductive, slow smile spread across her lips. Amelia leaned forwards a bit more, Haru's blush deepening.

"For your information, Amashi-kun, I _am_ single."

She leaned back, noting that her accented words _did_ have a noticeable effect.

"Now, that was just mean, Windsor-hime," Kyouya murmured. They were on the way to the dining hall, and she had somehow found herself stuck between him and Tamaki. "Poor Amashi-san could barely speak after that."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I have no idea what you mean, Ootori-san."

The same odd, contemplative look was back. _What does it mean?_

"I'm sure you didn't."


	2. Chapter 2

As it turned out, she didn't end up sitting with Kyouya for lunch after all. His table was already mainly occupied by a crowd of girls, most of whom gazed at him with adoring eyes and sent her subtle death glares. And so Amelia left, with a parting smile, and went to sit beside Hayashi Hana.

She never noticed the contemplative look Tamaki sent her way, either.

"Excuse me, but where's everyone going?" Amelia asked. Now that school had ended, the girls seemed to be leaving in droves, all in the same direction.

The girl she had asked, Hayashi Hana, blinked at her. "Oh, you're the princess, aren't you? You're new, so you don't know. We're all going to the host club. You should come!"

"... Host club?" _What was that?_

Hana giggled. "Yes, you should definitely come. I saw the way you were looking at Kyouya-kun earlier."

 _Somehow, this girl had become my acquaintance._

 _Wait._

"How was I looking at Ootori-san? I don't - he's just a friend - barely an acquaintance -" _Are all Japanese girls like this?_

Hana flashed her a knowing smile. "Yeah, okay, whatever you say, Windsor-san! Will you come?"

Blushing furiously, Amelia shook her head. "I don't know how I was looking at Ootori-san earlier, but you have the completely wrong idea. I'm expected back home anyways, so I had better get going. Sorry for bothering you, I hope you have fun at the host club!" And so she left, missing the disappointed look in Hana's eyes.

* * *

 _And so it begins,_ Amelia thought, with a sad little sigh. She sank into her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest. The maids and other housefolk knew to leave her alone on the first day of school. They'd been through this routine often enough, after all.

She rolled over onto her back, facing the ceiling. Amelia had pinned up photographs of herself and her parents, so that she might look at them as she fell asleep and pretend they were there with her. It was a habit she'd first developed in a boarding school in Germany, when, at eight years old, she'd finally realized that she would only see her parents during summer vacation.

Back then, Amelia had thought that everyone went through the same system she did. _Spend two years in a country, one in a rich school, one in a commoner school. Learn the language, learn the culture, make the connections. Rinse and repeat._

Every year a new school. Every year new classmates. By the time she was nine, she'd given up on having any friends. What was the point, if you only spent a few months together before never seeing each other again?

* * *

"Oi, Kyoya!" Tamaki called, reclining back in his sofa. The host club had just ended, the last guest stepped out the door.

Kyoya looked up from his notebook, fixing his glasses. "Yes?"

"Do you like Windsor-hime?"

Kyoya raised an eyebrow. "You're an idiot. Of course I don't."

But by then, it was too late.

"Kyoya, Kyoya, Kyoya," the twins sighed, each slinging an arm around their unfortunate victim. "You never tell us anything anymore, Kyoya," Hikaru cried dramatically, flinging back his head in mock despair. "Don't you love us?" Karou continued, mimicking his twin.

Kyoya's eye twitched. "No."

The twins exchanged a look, first with each other, then with Tamaki. Slowly, they grinned, tightening their arms so as to draw Kyoya closer between them. "Who's Windsor-hime, Kyoya?"

* * *

 _Host club._

 _Host club._

 _Host club._

 _What's a host club?_

Amelia frowned suddenly, still staring at the ceiling. _Is it a part of Japanese culture? An important part?_

 _I shouldn't have refused so suddenly._

 _I should've researched more._

Struck with a sudden determination, she rolled out of bed and ran to the study, sitting down in front of her laptop with a slight _whoosh_ of air. She typed in _host club Japanese_ into the search bar, absentmindedly wondering if she should change the language setting on her laptop again. She clicked on the first result, and read:

"A host club (ホストクラブ _hosuto kurabu_ ) is similar to a hostess club, except that female customers pay for male company… Host clubs are typically found in more populated areas of Japan… Customers are typically wives of rich men or women working as hostesses in hostess clubs … Male hosts pour drinks and will often flirt with their clients, more so than their female counterparts."

Staring straight ahead, she closed her laptop. Her mind was short-circuiting a bit, and she was having trouble thinking.

 _People… pay... to be flirted with…?_

 _Like… prostitution, but with flirting…?_

Her eyes widened as she remembered one of the lines from the Wikipedia article.

" _Customers are typically wives of rich men"_

 _Wives._

 _Wives._

 _s._

 _Their husbands are okay with that?!_

Amelia took a deep breath, leaning back. Host clubs were obviously a big part of Japanese culture. She had no right to judge them, because it was part of their _culture._ She repeated the word a few times in her head.

Okay. Amelia knew what she had to do. She would… she would go to the host club. She would negotiate with the president. She would… not pay to be flirted with. No flirtation. None. Negotiate a deal where there is no flirtation.

Amelia felt a small smile curling her lips. Negotiation, she knew how to deal with.

* * *

"Apparently, according to the beautiful Hayashi-hime, Windsor-hime all but ran when she was invited to the host club," Tamaki said, scribbling on a white board.

"Tamaki-senpai, is this really necessary? Maybe she just doesn't want to-" Haruhi began tentatively, before being aggressively cut off by Tamaki.

"Nonsense, Haruhi! It is our duty, as hosts, to bring happiness to young maidens! Did Windsor-hime look happy to you, Kyouya?"

The person in question glanced up over his glasses. "She didn't look _unhappy."_

Tamaki beamed, as if Kyouya had just expressed his heartfelt and everlasting support. "Exactly! And so begins, Operation Get Windsor-hime to See the Host Club!" He triple underlined the title on the whiteboard in case it wasn't clear.

Haruhi sweatdropped. "I'm gonna go home."

* * *

"Ah, Windsor-hime! I was wondering when I'd see your beautiful visage," Tamaki cried, turning in his seat the moment Amelia sat down. "Have you considered visiting the host-"

She cut him off with a blinding smile. "Yes, actually, I was going to ask you about that! As president of the host club, would you be willing to enter into negotiations with me? I've outlined a contract which explains what I am and am not willing to participate in, so if you could look it over, we could make the necessary changes and sign as soon as possible. After all, after extensive research, it's clear that the host club is a vital aspect of Japanese culture, isn't it?" Amelia whipped out a stack of papers from her bag and slid them over to Tamaki, still smiling.

"I told you it wasn't necessary," Kyouya sighed, pushing up his glasses. "She's here to learn about Japanese culture. How could she do that if she never visited the host club?"

"Exactly," Amelia agreed.

They both looked at Tamaki, who hadn't moved or spoken. He was frozen in the same position he had been before, staring down at the contract on the table. As they watched, he mumbled something incomprehensible.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Amelia asked.

"A… a contract?" Tamaki looked up at last, and Amelia felt a stir of satisfaction at the fear in his eyes. His fact had gone white but now settled on a kind of ash grey. "Did… did you talk to Kyouya about this? At all?"

Amelia frowned. "No, where did you get that idea from?"

She could've sworn Tamaki muttered "Oh god, there are two of them," but, as he examined the contract more closely, she decided to ignore it.

"You just want to observe us?" Tamaki clarified, after spending a couple minutes reading it over.

Amelia nodded, explaining, "I'm not comfortable with the flirtation aspects of the host club, but I believe it could be greatly beneficial for me to watch. From there, once I see what actually happens, I may decide to take part as well."

Tamaki blinked. "That's… acceptable."

"Brilliant! Just sign on the dotted line."

As Amelia slid the contract back into her bag, she noticed Amashi Haru walking into the class. Her entire demeanor changed. She sat up a bit straighter, ran her hand through her hair, and sent him a dazzling smile when he caught her eye.

"Windsor-hime! I… I didn't expect you to be so early!"

Amelia twisted in her seat so as to give him her full attention, turning her smile up from "dazzling" to "100-megawatt blinding," enjoying the way he turned bright red. "I love getting up early and seeing the sunrise, Amashi-kun. Please, call me Amelia," she added in a quieter voice, reaching out and putting her hand over his.

 _Negotiation and flirtation,_ she thought, with a pleased flutter. _This year is shaping up to be much more fun than the last._


	3. Chapter 3

"You're going to the host club!" Hana giggled. "Oh, this is wonderful! I've always wanted a friend to go there with!" She linked her arm with Amelia's, nearly dragging her towards Music Room 3.

Amelia couldn't help but laugh at Hana's enthusiasm. "Is the host club really such a big deal here?"

Hana nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. It used to be much larger, but Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai graduated last year. They're at Ouran University now, but they still visit every Monday and Wednesday!" She paused and blinked a few times. "Wait, today's Wednesday!" Hana let out a squeee of excitement, running towards the crowd of girls at the door. "HONEY-SENPAI AND MORI-SENPAI ARE VISITING TODAY!"

"WE KNOW!" The crowd screamed back, giving a collective squeee.

Through it all, Amelia hung back against the wall, watching bemusedly. She felt a slight concern for the health of her eardrums.

 _They act more like fans than girls with crushes,_ she thought. _They don't seem to be that possessive at all._

She pulled out her phone, and typed a little note in an email to herself. She'd add it to the file later. As she put it back in her bag, cursing the pocket-less yellow monstrosity she was wearing, the doors opened.

For a moment, the room seemed white - but as her eyes adjusted to the brightness from the many windows, a swirl of rose petals blew out the door and into her face.

 _Shit_.

Amelia sneezed. Then she sneezed again. And again. And again. She missed the host club's announcement, and her sneezing drew only the attention of Hana.

"Oh, Amelia-kun, are you alright?" Hana asked worriedly.

 _Since when did I become Amelia-kun?_

Amelia waved her off, feigning a smile. "Oh, I'm fine! I'm just a little - achoo - allergic to pollen! It isn't - achoo - that bad!" Amelia coughed a few times, and wiped a tear from her eye.

"Well, if you're sure…" Hana trailed off, and Amelia saw her looking longingly towards Tamaki, who was already surrounded by a crowd of girls.

"Go ahead!" Amelia said, searching for a handkerchief. "I just need a moment."

Hana ran off.

Amelia cursed in her head, still looking for that damn handkerchief.

"Here," Kyouya offered, holding out a scrap of white silk.

Where did he come from…? Amelia wondered, accepting it with a muffled "thanks."

She blew her nose, and dabbed at a few more tears. "I didn't realize there would be flowers, sorry… Oh no, now I've got this all dirty. Is it okay if I give it back tomorrow, once I've washed it?"

Kyouya gave her his patented host smile. "Give it back whenever you like." He stood up, immediately becoming more businesslike. "I've prepared a table in the back for your observations. Let us know if you require our assistance."

Amelia took the offered hand, thanking him.

"Oh, and I see you've taken my advice. Your accent's much less noticeable now."

"Thank you, Ootori-san," Amelia replied, wondering why she had to try not to blush.

She made her way to the corner, where there was a small, wrought-iron chair and a matching iron table. She pulled out her laptop, opening up a new document which she labeled "Host club." As her fingers flew across the keyboard, her eyes scanned the room, noting behaviours and faces.

Tamaki had the most girls crowding him, Hana among them. The Hitachiin twins were performing something that looked suspiciously like… incest… but of course, she wasn't here to judge. Fujioka Haruhi was crossdressing as a man and was fairly crowded as well, and for a moment, Amelia wondered what that was all about, but soon moved on. Takashi Morinozuka was sitting next to Mitsukuni Haninozuka and… looking right at her?

Amelia froze as she met his stormy grey eyes.

He's… really, really, really cute.

She blinked, hoping that it was just a trick of the light.

Mori was still looking at her.

She blinked again, a blush threatening to rise to her cheeks.

 _Snap out of it, Amelia,_ she scolded herself, tearing her eyes away. Uncomfortably, she brushed a piece hair behind her ear, forcing down the oncoming blush. Y _ou're here to do work, not crush on guys. Crushes are bad. Crushes are awful. What would Arthur say?_

She turned her eyes, instead, towards Kyouya, who seemed to be having a much more intellectual conversation with a girl. His "scholarly aura" was turned on full blast, after all. He caught her looking and raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. She flashed him her I'm-not-doing-anything-wrong face before looking down at her laptop.

 **Hosts: Suouh Tamaki. Fujioka Haruhi. Hitachiin Hikaru. Hitachiin Kaoru…**

Despite her attempt to immerse herself completely in her work, Amelia couldn't help but feel a little lonely. Was she pathetic? She was literally sitting in a corner on her laptop, a thirty-first wheel, watching others enjoy themselves without experiencing any positive emotion at all.

 _It's a little bit pathetic_ , she admitted. _But I can't say I'm not used to it. Just not on this scale._

Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. Amelia looked up, feeling a prickle of fear when she saw Mori towering before her. She didn't realize he was so tall… he must've been over six feet, with dark hair and eyes, and was holding… a chicken? Where did that come from? Amelia took a moment to appreciate the image he made, like an enormous grizzly bear who happened to be loved by all the small forest creatures. That led to an image of Mori in a bear suit and - _let's not go there_ , Amelia told herself firmly. _That's wayy too cute to imagine._

With a surprising gentleness, he placed the chicken on the seat opposite her. "Piyo-chan will keep you company," he said, patting the chicken on the head a few times. It chirped in response, nuzzling his hand.

That's… really, really, _really_ , cute. Oh god.

Amelia couldn't help but blush, despite her efforts, and gazed up at him. In the background, she heard some girls going kyaa and talking about moe. "Thank you, Morinozuka-senpai. I'll make sure to take good care of… of Piyo-chan." Her voice was just above a whisper.

Mori gave her a single nod, patting Amelia on the head as well. Her blush deepened. _Is he always this kind?_ She wondered. _Why was he carrying around a chicken to begin with?_

"Takashi! Come and eat cake! There are strawberries ~" Honey called, with tiny flowers twinkling around his head. He was perched on the edge of a couch, looking over at them and hugging a stuffed rabbit. _I still can't believe he's a university student._

"Aimee-chan, do you want cake too?" I guess I'm 'Aimee-chan'? Confused and a bit flattered, Amelia called out a polite refusal.

"Remember to reduce your cake intake by 90%, Mitsukuni." Mori said as he turned and left, leaving Amelia alone with her laptop, her blush, and a chicken, who decided that no, it didn't want to be on a chair, thank you very much, and settled into Amelia's lap instead.

She looked down at the chicken (Piyo-chan, her mind reminded her), who returned her gaze with beady black eyes before promptly falling asleep.

 _That was… unexpected._

Amelia had no idea what to make of the situation. Was no one else fazed by this? Tentatively, she ran her fingers along the chicken's back. _It's much softer than I thought it would be._

She felt oddly touched by the gesture, and petted the chicken a few more times before going back to her work.

* * *

"Aimee-chan is pretty, ne, Takashi?"

"Ah."

* * *

Kyouya scribbled something in his notebook, an unreadable expression on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

"Thank you for Piyo-chan, Morinozuka-senpai!" Amelia said breathlessly. She was desperately trying not to think about his _incredible cuteness_. She couldn't believe how close to losing it she was. _I've never been like this around a guy before,_ she chastised herself. _Not even Arthur, and he's a thousand times more handsome_. _Get it together, Windsor. You are a_ princess. She took a deep breath in an effort to calm her racing heart.

"Although, I think… ah…"

As she lifted Piyo-chan from its position on her lap, she revealed a small, circular wet stain on her dress.

"I think Piyo-chan… had a bit of an… accident," she finished, biting her lip. She chanced a glance up, only to see Mori collapse against a wall in despair, his hand covering his face. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

 _Isn't that a bit of an overreaction?_

"I'm… I'm so sorry, Windsor-hime…" He said despondently, looking away. Instead he glared down at Piyo-chan who, being a chicken, was completely oblivious to the situation it had caused. It chirped happily at being held by Mori, which caused his face to momentarily soften, his glare unable to hold up in the face of a chicken. The internal conflict was clear, and also _kind of super cute._

Amelia bit her lip so hard she drew blood. It was suddenly very, incredibly, super important that Mori not feel bad. "Morinozuka-senpai, it's okay! I can always wash it, and I'm sure once it dries it won't be noticeable at all!" _After all, these yellow dresses_ are _the same colour as urine._

"What's-"

"-this?"

Hikaru and Kaoru leaned over first Amelia, then Mori, smirking devilishly. "Did Piyo-chan _pee_ on our dear Windsor-hime?" At their words, Mori let out another groan, sinking to the ground and thrusting Piyo-chan away from him as if he couldn't bare to look at it for a moment longer.

Hikaru leaned against the wall on Amelia's left, while Kaoru mimicked him on her right.

"It's really no big deal," Amelia began dismissively, then stopped. "Wait. How do you all know my name? And," she looked over at Mori, "Is Morinozuka-senpai going to be okay?"

The twins rolled their eyes, "Don't worry, Mori might seem scary but he's a bit of a drama queen," they told her in a conspiratorial tone, leaning towards her.

"Drama… queen?"

At that moment, Tamaki popped out of nowhere and gave a strangled gasp of horror. "Windsor-hime! Thank goodness we have changes of clothes!" "We have changes of clothes?" Haruhi wondered in the background.

Tamaki snapped his fingers, then pointed them at the twins dramatically. "Hikaru, Kaoru, give this beautiful maiden something to wear!"

"Yes, milord!" They saluted, Mori forgotten, before each grabbing one of Amelia's arms and dragging her towards an unmarked door, lifting her clear over the table. _Was that always there?_

Ignoring her protests, the twins shoved her unceremoniously through a curtain behind the door, riffling through a closet. She stumbled, steadying herself against the wall, making very uncomplimentary remarks under her breath.

 _I've lost my decorum completely,_ part of her mourned.

"This really isn't necessary!" Amelia called, poking her head through the curtain. Everything was moving so quickly, she felt a bit out of her element. And besides, why was this kind of thing in a music room to begin with? Why were there so many clothes here? Why were there so many _female_ clothes here? Did this kind of thing happen often?

Hikaru was looking through some dresses while Karou did the same with makeup. When she saw this, Amelia felt affronted. "I understand the clothes, but why makeup?"

Kaoru's face hardened ( _and I thought he was the nice twin!)._ "Don't question us, lovely Windsor-hime."

"Put this on," Hikaru ordered, shoving a bundle of fabric at her. "When you're done, step out so I can do your makeup," Kaoru continued.

"You really don't have to -" Amelia began, but she was cut off.

"Oh, we _want_ to," they said, grinning as one being. Their eyes seemed to darken and glimmer ominously, their hair falling in front of their eyes. Suddenly, their teeth seemed a bit sharper than before.

With round, slightly fearful eyes, Amelia grabbed the clothes and snapped the curtain shut, wondering what kind of fearful, hellish school she had come to.

* * *

Kyouya stopped typing on his laptop. A thought had occurred to him.

"You know, Windsor-hime asked a very good question. How _do_ all of you know her name? Especially you two," he added, looking at Honey and Mori. "You weren't here yesterday when she arrived."

"Kyouya-senpai, I thought you knew?" Haruhi asked, confused, pointedly ignoring the way Tamaki had gone pale and was vigorously shaking his head behind Kyouya's back. "Tamaki-senpai sent everyone emails yesterday with Windsor-hime's picture and information, including Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai."

"I'm sorry, you did _what_?" Amelia hissed, slamming open the door. But, in the wake of her makeover, her comment went unnoticed.

"Aimee-chan!" Honey cried, tackling her with a hug. "You look so pretty!" To no one's surprise, he lifted her from the ground and spun her in the air.

And indeed she did. The twins, despite their general mischievous demeanor, really did know what they were doing when it came to fashion. Amelia was wearing a light, flowy, powder blue dress, which made her eyes look bigger and bluer than normal. Her hair had been left the same, but the dark copper colour looked much better against blue than yellow, and fell in loose ringlets down her back.

"I really do like this dress," Amelia admitted, with both feet back on the ground and Honey clinging to her shoulders, "and it's nice to wear a colour that doesn't constantly clash with my hair. I suppose you have the right idea, Fujioka-san," she added, turning to Haruhi. "Maybe I should consider wearing the boys' uniform as well."

There was an instant uproar.

"You-you know Haruhi's a girl?" Tamaki cried, putting a hand on his chest in shock as thunder shook the room.

"You can never leave this room," the twins said darkly, looming over her from behind.

"You won't tell anyone, will you, Aimee-chan?" Honey pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. He slid down from her shoulders and shuffled in front of her, looking up at her through his eyelashes.

Meanwhile, Haruhi just blinked and Kyouya scribbled down another note.

"I don't know why it's such a big deal, but if it matters that much to you all, of course I won't tell anyone!" Amelia smiled, very confused. Maybe the Japanese were sensitive about the whole cross-dressing issue? Then they must care about Haruhi very much, to not want her secret to get out. But in that case, why wasn't Haruhi upset? Shouldn't she - or he - be the _most_ upset about the possibility?

"Mommy!" Tamaki implored, turning to Kyouya. "Make Amelia not tell!"

Amelia stifled a giggle as Kyouya gave a long-suffering sigh. "She already agreed not to tell, Tamaki. Although, if it makes you feel any better, I suppose I should let you know," he turned to Amelia, "that the Ootori family has a private police force of over 100. Keep that in mind when you make your decisions." He adjusted his glasses, causing them to flash in her direction.

 _Was that a threat?_

Amelia stopped laughing. There was an indecipherable emotion crackling in her stomach. She was used to people acting deferential to her because of her grandmother. She was used to people acting scornful of her because of her grandmother. She was used to almost every reaction, every phrase, and had met so many people in her life she figured she'd seen them all. But never, not once did she _ever_ encounter someone so openly dismissive of her before.

Slowly, she walked towards Kyouya, each _click_ of her heels audible in the silence that had fallen over the room. Reveling in the complete command she had over this moment, she stood in front of Kyouya, meeting his eyes with an unspoken challenge. She leaned forward imperceptibly, her voice was soft and low.

"The royal protection squad is a group of people trained to protect my family and I at all costs, even at the expense of their own lives. No one knows how many of them there are, but rest assured there are many more than a _mere_ hundred. A tiny fraction has been deployed for my personal protection, and at this moment there are over twenty squad members hidden in the grounds, a further twenty along the route home, and fifty more surrounding and within my mansion. They are disguised as students, workers, even butlers, so if you think _for a moment_ that your tiny police force fazes me _even slightly,_ I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken."

She took a breath, and flashed him a pretty smile. "And besides, I already said I wouldn't tell anyone, so what's the worry? There's no need to threaten anyone, is there?"

Amelia looked around. "Ah… is everyone okay?"

Their faces had all gone pale and the colour seemed to have bled out of their clothes, eyes blank, mouths hanging open.

"Don't worry about it," Kyoya said smoothly. "They're just in shock. Most people usually don't talk back to me, especially when I flash my glasses." _So he did that on purpose…? How?_

"I guess I'm not most people, then." _I've always wanted to say that!_

"No," Kyouya agreed, with a familiar odd look in his eyes. "You certainly aren't."

Haruhi laughed, causing both Amelia and Kyouya to look at her (him?). "I thought it was funny," she confessed, shrugging. She caught Amelia's eye and they shared a smile. "It's about time that happened, Kyouya-senpai."

He murmured an agreement, and something about having to "update the file."

Amelia's smile faltered. "Yes, well, speaking of files and documents, that reminds me -" she turned her narrowed eyes towards Tamaki, who hadn't spoken a word throughout the entire incident. "I will repeat myself: Tamaki, you did _what_ with my information?"

He immediately turned and ran, leaving only a cloud of dust in his wake.

Amelia flipped open her phone and pursed her lips. "Hello, George? Yes, could you please secure the perimeter? There's a blond teenager, violet eyes, in an Ouran uniform attempting to escape. He left Music Room 3 in the south building very recently... Yes... Yes. Thank you, George, you're an absolute angel."

She ended the call, before facing the surprised expressions on everyone's faces, even Haruhi's.

"What, did you think I was exaggerating?"

To her shock, Hikaru and Kaoru began to fake cry.

"Oh, Hikaru!" Kaoru cried, wiping a tear from his eye. "Have you ever seen anything as beautiful as that?"

"I have not," Hikaru whispered, clasping her hand with both of his. "Windsor-hime, as anyone ever told you how amazing you are?"

"How wonderful?"

"How incredible?"

In the distance, there were sounds of a scuffle and a high-pitched squeal.

"Did I forget to tell them he wasn't to be harmed?" Amelia frowned, then shrugged. "Whoops."

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, so I only just realized that I completely forgot to add a disclaimer. I didn't want to break the flow of the story, so here it is!**

 ***Ahem***

 **Most of the characters don't belong to me. The main OC's here are Amelia, Haru, and Hana - and in typing out those names, I realize my previously undiscovered penchant for names that begin with "H." So I'm not sure if people actually read these, since for me it's kind of fifty-fifty on whether or not I read A/N's. Please let me know if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, and feedback is always, always, _always_ welcome! I'll keep this short, because I can't count the number of times I've been super excited about a long chapter, only to discover that it was mostly an A/N. So, farewell! Before I go, I'd just like to remark that that colour is very becoming on you, and that I hope you have an incredible day 3**


	5. Chapter 5

"A call from your mother, Amelia-hime."

"Hello?"

"Oh, my dear Amelia, it's simply been too long! How are classes at Ouran going? George reported that you stayed after school for a club, but he didn't say which. I do hope you're making us proud, sweetheart"

 _Of course George told you,_ Amelia thought bitterly. _Most of what you know about me comes from your head of security. I would've told you if you called more than once a week._

But of course, she was a Princess (with a capital P), and Princesses never spoke what they thought. Beauty, poise, grace. She put on her patented "excited, innocent daughter" voice, developed and refined after years of phone calls.

"Yes mother, it was a wonderful introduction to Japanese culture! I learned so much more about how and when to use certain honorifics, as well as the typical social structure within a Japanese platonic relationship."

 _I miss you. I wish I could see you. Why can I never come home?_

"That's wonderful! And I know it's only been two days, but I trust you've been studying hard? You did start a month and a half late after all, I'm sure there's so much make up work to do. And how is your Japanese…"

Her mother chattered on for another ten minutes, barely letting her get a word in edgewise, before hanging up abruptly with a breathless, "Sorry, darling, something's come up! Mummy's got to run." Amelia checked the time, a tired, wry smile on her lips - twelve minutes exactly. _That fits with the average call length_ , she mused _. And she never caught on that I didn't actually mention what the club did._ Amelia wasn't sure whether or not to be upset with that fact. Clearly, Sarah Ferguson hadn't grown up among royalty - or politicians.

She handed the phone back to the maid, thanking her.

"Is there anything else?"

"Oh, yes, Amelia-hime, these came in the mail this morning," she replied, procuring a stack of fancy-looking letters from an apron pocket.

"Thank you," Amelia said, blinking at the sheer quantity of mail. Most of it was probably junk mail, she guessed. She sat down at the living room table, reclining back slightly on her leather sofa and opening the topmost letter, enjoying how creamy and smooth it felt.

 _Dear Princess Amelia,_ it began in English, _you and a partner are most cordially invited to the annual fundraiser held by Mr & Mrs Kabe in honor of the anniversary of their charity, which this year provided assistance to..._

"A charity function?"

Then, her eyes fell on the beginning.

"A partner?!" She cried. Fear had flooded her bones, a sudden, chilling creature grabbing her from behind. "I mean… a partner, gosh." Amelia coughed, looking around self-consciously to see if anyone noticed her unladylike shriek. The room was empty.

She let out a sigh of relief, before returning to the problem at hand. She'd only been at Ouran for two days, so she didn't know anyone well enough to ask them to this kind of thing. The invitation said "partner," which didn't necessarily mean "date." Could she take a friend? Who could she possible take?

Could she go… alone? The thought wasn't particularly daunting - she'd spent much of her life alone after all. However, it might be a good opportunity to further develop her public image. If she showed up with someone who made her seem compassionate, or improved her image… But could she use someone like that?

No, no, she reassured herself _. I wouldn't be using him. I'd just spend the evening with someone I like to talk to. If my image just happens to improve, then that'll just be a happy event, right? Right._

Despite that, she hesitated, her hand over her phone. It'd be around 8am in London. _That's fine, right? His school doesn't start til 9._ It was a long shot, but…

"Hello?" His voice was husky with sleep. For some reason, Amelia felt a shiver go down her spine. She had to swallow hard before speaking. This is so much nicer than calling my mom.

"Arthur? It's me, Amelia."

"Amy? Jesus Christ, do you have any idea what the time is?"

"I'm sorry! It's just that I got an invitation for a charity function and it says I need to bring a partner so I was wondering if you could…?" She trailed off hopefully and heard him sigh, could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Amy."

"Yes?"

"Is this function in Japan?"

"Yes."

Arthur made another exasperated sound from the other end. "I'm on the other side of the world, Amy."

"I-I don't know who else to ask! I'm sorry!" I haven't stammered in years.

"I… Okay, how about this. If you can't find a date by the end of next week, I'll see what I can do." Sensing she had just breathed a breath of relief, he added, "But you need to try, okay? I'm not doing this for every fancy thing you have to go to!"

Amelia beamed. "Thank you so much, Arthur! I'll try for sure! I knew I could count on you!"

He sighed again, and she was suddenly guilty about interrupting his sleep. "I'm sorry, are you busy right now?" She heard some noises on the other end as he readjusted himself.

"I'm never too busy for you, Amy," he said quietly, and oh, how she had missed that voice. "I just missed you."

"I missed you too, Arthur."

"Now that I'm up, mind regaling me with the latest adventures in the exciting life of Amelia Windsor?"

She settled back on the couch, getting comfortable. "You won't believe the amount of work we have to do. Japanese history, for one! History's always a bit of a messy course, since it changes depending on the country, but Japan's so much older than Canada plus it's a mandatory subject! I just don't have the background knowledge I need to make my assignments really thorough, and I've already missed ever so much work…"

They talked for half an hour, with Arthur doing his best to make her laugh ("you need to laugh more, Amy. It's good for the soul") before he left for school.

Talking about the past few days made Amelia realize how dreadfully behind on everything she was. She had at least two assessments in every course to catch up on, and the teachers wouldn't give her an extension indefinitely.

Slowly, she made her way to her study, sitting down with all the cheer of a funeral-goer. Pulling out her laptop, there was a heavy, resigned feeling in her stomach as she gazed at the list of work she had to do. She spared a look at the clock, noticing that it was only 5pm. Surely she could at least get 2 assignments done before bed, right?

* * *

Oh no, oh no, oh no…

Amelia burst into the classroom three seconds before the bell rang, collected herself, and tried to pretend that she wasn't hurrying to her chair.

"Busy night?" Haru asked, before remembering how shy he was and blushing.

Amelia smiled slightly, really not in the mood. Her shoulders were hunched over slightly with tiredness. "I was just up late." Who knew the Canadian curriculum would be so much behind the Japanese? And that linear algebra would be so absolutely awful?

She straightened up as the lecture began. _Get a hold of yourself, Windsor. You're a princess. Act like one._

Throughout all of mathematics, she kept her head down and mouth shut, speaking only when spoken to. The many etiquette classes she'd taken were running through her head, to the point where she could barely focus on what they were learning. Of course, that might also be partially attributed to the fact that she was so tired she was afraid she'd fall over. All her attention was on making the neatest, most beautiful notes she could - so when first period finally ended and the art teacher came in, she breathed a sigh of relief.

The sigh soon died a swift and horrible death however, as the teacher began ushering them into a different room. With a feeling of dread bubbling up in her stomach, she observed the neat array of easels before her. Amelia positively hated painting; in fact, she harbored a deep resentment for all arts in general, film and television most of all. Her mother, Sarah Ferguson, was a producer, and Amelia's school-trotting was entirely her fault. Perhaps, she allowed, this all-encompassing fear and anger was a bit irrational. Misplaced, maybe? But Amelia figured there was no harm in it as long as she kept it well-concealed, as with most of her other true emotions.

"Why do you look so upset, Windsor-hime?" Tamaki asked, looking concerned. For the first time since she'd met him, he wasn't acting like a hyperactive idiot. It was equal parts refreshing and concerning. Nonetheless, whatever answer Amelia would've given was drowned out by the teacher.

"Now, I want to give you all freedom on this project." She laughed to herself. "That's why I want you to paint your best representation of freedom! You have today and tomorrow to paint, and on the day after tomorrow I want you all to give a presentation on why you painted what you did." She laughed again at her pun.

Freedom?

Amelia jotted the word down in her notebook, getting ready for some good old-fashioned brainstorming.

 _What's the first thing that comes to mind when I think of freedom?_

 _Wings?_ Most people think of birds and angels, their outstretched wings carrying them away from earthly worries. But flying away and avoiding a problem isn't freedom, just a different type of slavery. No matter where you were, your problems followed you. _Open field?_ Again, problematic. You were still held down. _Chains_. That was a classic one, really, but too many chains or a lack of?

Amelia paused.

What if the key to freedom wasn't preventing things from holding you down? What were the different types of freedoms? Freedom of speech, freedom of expression… Was there a freedom of choice?

Oh. _Oh_.

The vision came all at once, in a swirl of black and white and some muted, indistinguishable color. Amelia scrambled to move her pencil from notebook to canvas, and sketched out a rough outline of what she wanted to paint. Maybe red - no, blue? Purple? She squeezed out a bit of lilac and dabbed at it with her paintbrush, swirled in a hint of robin's egg blue… but it still didn't look quite right. She found herself charmed by the effect of the half-purple, half-blue combination. It was both robin's egg and lilac along with a spectrum of all the colors in between, each a delicate streak within the paint.

"Windsor-hime." Her concentration was shattered by Kyouya's voice. "It's time for lunch. Won't you sit with us? It'll be an excellent opportunity to see Japanese culture from a male perspective, since Hayashi-san's been monopolizing you these past few days."

Well, she didn't really have anything to say in response to that, although she did have a niggling feeling that Kyouya might try to get back at her for the day before. Presented with a lack of arguments, she had no choice but to graciously agree, a trickle of fear already creeping up her spine.

* * *

 **A/N: And a new player appears. Who're you cheering for: Mori, Kyouya, or Arthur?**

 **Also, it is Kyouya or Kyoya? I've seen it spelled both ways in the manga and anime :/**


End file.
